The Mutt Has a Mistress
by Insomniac Connor
Summary: [AU] On Kagome's birthday in her little suburb in Tokyo, her grandfather gets her a wolf prince, who may be more than she can handle. In Kyoto, model Kikyo never meant to get involved with some hood rat with beautiful eyes and a sensitive heart. InuKik, KagKog. (DISCONTINUED TO BE REBOOTED)
1. Happy Birthday, Dear Kagome

The Mutt Has a Mistress

1

Happy Birthday, Dear Kagome

 **:Kagome:**

The sun was shining; the birds were chirping, and Kagome Higurashi was running for her life—yet again. Being late for school was a matter of life-or-death for her.

If she was late again…she shuddered to think about what would happen. As she rounded the corner, she spotted her cluster of three friends: Eri, Ayumi, and Yuka, who all turned to face her.

"Good morning, Kagome. Happy birthday," Ayumi greeted with a soft smile, her curls billowing in the wind as she turned to glance over her shoulder.

"Where have you been, birthday girl?" Eri asked, stomping a foot down onto the earth as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"My alarm clock wouldn't go off this morning!" Kagome cried, tucking the papers nearly spilling out of her crowded backpack back in.

"Hojo from Class B wants to talk to you," Yuka snickered with a lecherous expression dominating her face as she linked arms with Eri, who smiled mischievously as well.

"Higurashi!" It was that idiotic but resilient brunette boy from the next class over, jogging their way.

Ayumi's gentle smile widened at the sight of him.

Eri wiggled her brows, smirking.

Hojo's steps slowed as he came closer and closer, eventually lowering his once-raised arm.

"Oh," Kagome managed, "hi, Hojo." She yawned and glanced up at him; she didn't even bother to conceal the exhaustion in her voice or the lack of enthusiasm at seeing him.

"Happy birthday! How was your weekend?" he asked curiously, smiling wide and flashing ultra-white teeth worthy of a toothpaste commercial.

"Thanks. Fine," she answered dryly.

"Would you want to go to the movies with me Saturday, birthday girl?" Hojo's smile was full-blast, nearly blinding her.

"Hojo, you're a really great guy—" Kagome started, already tired of the back-and-forth.

Yuka grabbed her arm. "She'd _love_ to go!" she yelled, right in Kagome's ear. "Right?"

On the other side was Eri, wearing a matching expression.

Irritated beyond belief with her friends' pressure, the birthday girl ripped her arms out of their eager grasp.

"No, actually, I _wouldn't._ I won't. Look, Hojo, you're a great, smart, considerate guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you." She took a big breath. "Just not me. I'm sorry that I never told you before this. _They_ —" She shot a glower at her meek-faced friends. "—Always butted in. Thank you for the birthday wishes. I hope we can still be friends."

Hojo's smile never faltered. "Of course," he said with a smile and turned to her friends. "I'll see you ladies later," he told them, his expression kind. And then he was jogging away, cheerful as ever, and she watched him get smaller and smaller until he disappeared back to a group of his friends.

"What was _that_?" Yuka demanded loudly, frowning at Kagome.

"I _don't_ like him," Kagome stated flatly as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, running her fingers through her way-ward hair, finger-combing it.

Yuka scowled. "But he's _such_ a great guy!" she yelled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, he is, but not for _me_ ," the birthday girl pointed out with a glare. She turned on her heel and marched away, head held high.

Ayumi shook her head sadly at her other two friends' expressions and hurried after Kagome.

* * *

Kagome's younger brother, Sota, was waiting at the kitchen table when she came inside after school.

Mama was facing the stove, cooking while listening to the radio.

Grandpa was out back, from what she could see through the little window above the sink, sweeping the floors.

Presents littered the floor, gathered in stacks with flashy wrapping paper.

Scotch tape was all over Sota's face, his cheeks, tangled in his hair as he wrapped up a box about the size of Kagome's fist.

There was a massive box, however, nearly taking up the entire space next to the fridge, and it was plain cardboard, sealed with duct tape with holes in the top. Every once in a while, she'd hear rustling, like something living was inside the box, shifting, restless.

"Happy birthday, Kagome." Sota smiled up at her, a strip of tape hanging off his nose as he struggled with the pieces on his fingertips.

A white box lay on the table, halfway wrapped, although the paper was a bit torn and crinkled.

"Thanks, squirt," she laughed and ruffled his messy hair; furthering the bedhead he thought was so cool and fashionable.

"Hi, mama," she said, planting a kiss to her mother's cheek. "Smells good."

Kagome's mom smiled wide. "Happy birthday, Kagome," she said to her daughter.

The girlbeamed right back and turned on her heel, heading up to her room to change out of her school uniform into her favorite blue sweatshirt and skirt. When she came back down, all the presents were in the family room except for the big one without wrapping paper, and dinner lay across the table, all her favorite foods, oden and fried pickles and soba and so much more. Her stomach rumbled as she took a seat and licked her lips eagerly.

The box in the corner rattled.

"Hey!" came a masculine voice from inside as the box began to move, teetering back and forth steadily. "What the hell is this?" Anger laced his tone as a foot came flying through the cardboard.

Grandpa smiled as Sota screamed shrilly, falling backwards out of his chair.

"Get me out! Where the hell am I?" the voice continued to yell as a heavily-veined hand punched through the cardboard.

"Looks like he's awake," Mama said serenely as she pulled away from the table.

"Who's awake?" Kagome asked anxiously as she padded up behind her mother.

"Alright, alright! I'll let you out," Mama said to the box with a smile as she grabbed a knife off the counter and began to cut off the tape.

There was a huge bang as the box exploded, shredded to pieces.

When the dust settled, Mama was sitting in a chair with singed hair and Kagome was sprawled out of the floor in front of the figure standing in place of the box.

She was certain her eyes looked like dinner plates as she drank in the alluring features of the newcomer.

Long, unruly black hair tied back in a ponytail, bronze skin darker than soil and riddled with scratches and smudges, pointed ears and sharp eye teeth, his lean figure, and ice-blue eyes hidden within long, thick eyelashes. He was beautiful, almost unrealistically.

"Y-Y-you—" Kagome stammered and his gaze dropped down to her.

"Nice butterflies, woman," he said.

She looked down, realized her legs were wide open and she was in a _skirt_ , and screamed the first thing she thought of coherently shrilly, "PERVERT DOG!"

He cocked a brow questioningly, a mockery in his smile. "It's wolf, actually."


	2. Happy Birthday, Dear Kikyo

The Mutt Has a Mistress

2

Happy Birthday, Dear Kikyo

 **:Kikyo:**

Kikyo Takemaru wasn't in the mood for anyone bothering her.

Today, she was officially twenty, but a long day of posing this way ("Turn your head _that_ way!" "Suck in your gut, Kikyo!" "Smile more!" "Yes, a little bit—good.") and that while camera lights blinded her had her legs aching from her five-mile run this morning, her back tender, every muscle knotted deeply, and her in general absolutely exhausted.

Rubbing her shoulders, the model made her way up to her luxurious—apparently, athletic Chinese girls were all the rage now—apartment in the bustling city of Kyoto.

The soft, soothing elevator music pushed back the headache that was brewing behind her temples and she slumped against the railing for support.

Ever since she was a little girl, she'd always known she was pretty—long, pin-straight hair that people constantly wanted to touch, eyes that lacked emotion (far too many times she'd been called frigid because of them) and unhealthy white skin.

She wasn't very busty, but rather lean, athletically built at five-foot-two and one-hundred-nine pounds; according to her company it was _perfect_ for magazines but never in a million lives she would've thought she'd be running around all day, standing up for so many hours, until her back was nothing but knots and her legs quivered at the mere _thought_ of more standing.

The hallway, unfortunately, was loud.

At the end was a huge ballroom, where the hotel catered private parties and, with a huge sigh of defeat, she recognized the sticky-faced little children. Peals of laughter grated on her wire-thin nerves, sawing through them, and she pressed her shoulders up against her ears as though it could block out the noise.

Little feet pattered up and down the length of the ballroom, loud and echoing.

Of course, none of the neighbors said anything about them. None of them were home at this hour.

A little hand tugged at the bottom of her skirt and she squinted down at her hip to a wide-faced little girl, her eyes gazing up at Kikyo adoringly; across her head was a tiara and she wore a huge sash that read "Birthday Girl" in big, chunky letters with too much glitter to be tasteful but, hey, this was probably a child's birthday party.

"Are you a princess?" the little girl asked breathlessly.

A smear of frosting caught Kikyo's attention and she squatted down, finding a little pack of wet towelettes she carried around in her bag; when she turned back to the little girl, there was this sparkle in her eyes.

"No, although I think _you_ are," Kikyo said with a laugh.

"I'm eight today," the girl stated loudly as the model wiped off her cheek.

"I give the best of wishes to the birthday princess." She rummaged around in her bag, withdrew a little cd, and found a Sharpie. "What's your name?"

"Nadeshiko."

"Happy birthday, Princess Nadeshiko. Love, Kikyo."

"Nadeshiko!" It was a tired-faced woman was hurrying down the hall with a little boy on her hip, crying loudly. She looked painfully tired, the skin on her face taut, cheekbones protruding from the paper thin skin. Dark circles, purple blue, hugged the undersides of her eyes; big brown ones that looked exactly like the little girl's. "I'm so sor—" The woman stopped short, her mouth open in surprise, eyes widening, recognition dawning.

She rose quickly and dusted off her work skirt, petting the little girl's hair gently. "It's okay. Would you like another set of hands?" Despite being tired to the bone, every inch of her aching, she couldn't possibly pass up the chance to help this young mother, who was obviously more exhausted than her.

The boy on her hip reached out with chubby hands and grasped a fistful of Kikyo's loose blouse.

The woman looked horrified, as though she were repulsed at being so close to Kikyo. "No thank you. Come one, Shiori. Hush now." She swatted the little boy's hands, grabbed the girl's hand, and speed walked away, the girl glancing back every few minutes at Kikyo with a sad, heartbroken expression.

Kikyo clenched her jaw, teeth grinding painfully, and turned tail, stalking to her apartment room. If she strained enough, she could hear the kids shrieking and laughing.

It was _always_ like that. Men and women alike always skittered around her like she was someone dangerous. What was so wrong with wanting to help someone with their kids when they're obviously exhausted? Was there something wrong with her? Was she scary? Standoffish?

It was silent when she closed her door and kicked off her heels. Thankful to be out of those horrible shoes, she peeled off her blazer and threw it onto the ground. No one would ever suspect Kikyo to have a messy house but oh it was. Clothes scattered once she shut the door behind her, dirty dishes on the counter, fast food containers nearly spilling out of the trash can that needed to be taken out, hairbrushes everywhere, makeup everywhere, wrappers from candies and food clinging to every available surface. It was almost sad.

She wiggled off her blouse and slid into a clean sweatshirt, swapping her skirtfor ratty sweatpants. Just because she was a model didn't mean she wasn't allowed to be lazy or ill dressed. She flopped down onto the couch and turned on Netflix.

* * *

Kikyo woke up around two in the morning to the sound of arguing.

Male voices.

Trashcans clattered noisily.

Several gunshots.

She sat upright quickly and hurried to the window, squinting into the dimness of the alleyway beside her building.

Several figures ran out into the street, making cars honk.

A lone one lay on the wet pavement and, from what she could see, it had long, pale hair and dog ears. A half-demon.

Despite all the warnings everyone had preached to her as she grew up, her concern outweighed the possibility that the half-demon would hurt her and she found her sneakers and opened the window.

The fire escape was slick and rickety but it held firm under her weight as she climbed down, ignoring the cold wind's bite. When she landed lightly, the figure lifted its head.

Golden eyes reflected back what little light the alley had, like a cat's.

"Go…away," it said, in a richly masculine voice, but she just crept closer and crouched down.

Touched where its neck should be. The fluttering beating against her fingers made her heart stop pounding. Then, she lifted him—it certainly was a male now— with her arms under his armpits and dragged him to the fire escape.

No doubt he wouldn't want the police; they hated half-demons and hardly cared to help them. It was a dog eat dog world.

After some almost falls and lots of will power, Kikyo wrestled him in through the open window and he joined her on the floor. Sweat beaded her face as she closed it and lugged him to the couch.

"It's okay," she told him when he flailed, claws narrowly missing her stomach. "I won't hurt you."

He probably could smell the truth on her because he relaxed suddenly and lay back down, his eyes closing.

It hurt just to look at him, he was so beautiful. Long, thick silver-white hair that cascaded and haloed around his bruised face, full, thick lips that made girls envious, long, white eyelashes, and golden skin. He was draped in all red: a red hoodie, which was black with blood where he'd been shot several times, dark red jeans, red sneakers. A purple beaded necklace was in his pocket.

Kikyo pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to the bathroom, ransacking through it. Her hands shook and she forced herself to take a deep breath, count to ten, and then her hands didn't shake anymore. When she came back, she wondered why she was bothering helping him.

Living in a shrine, she'd tended to the sick and, if her father was here now, he'd tell her they had a duty to help those in trouble. She shook her head and shuffled back to him.

He was on his side, his ears twitching.

She knelt down beside him and set to work.


	3. Northern Wolf Tribe

The Mutt Has a Mistress

3

Northern Wolf Tribe

 **:Kagome:**

Despite being drop-dead gorgeous, the guy who claimed to be a wolf prince was rather obnoxious. He was extremely confident, and had a tendency to dive in head-first instead of sit back and take in the situation.

Kagome found all of that within a few minutes of him shredding that box her grandfather had put him in.

"The name's Koga," the demon stated, rising from his crouch on the ground, a smirk plastered on his mouth that showed off his long canines—a clear indication of his not-wuite-human bloodline—as he spoke, crossing the room until he stood toe-to-toe with her, a good couple feet taller than her. "And you're going to be my wife."

Kagome's face flooded instantly with color as Koga crossed his burly arms and angled his head down, his eyes lidded. It took her a fraction of a second to realize he was trying to kiss her, and even less to raise her hand and slap him across the cheek.

The sound reverberated around the silent room, and he cradled his face gingerly, a look of surprise on his face.

An inkling of fear slid through the haze of anger in her brain and she stepped back, lest he show his true form and attack her for disrespecting him; to her surprise, he started to laugh. Threw his head back and laughed and laughed.

"You're a strong woman, both in spirit and body," he said, rubbing the red skin of his face but she was wondering, absently, if she'd really hurt him.

Now that she thought about it, her hand started to throb ever so faintly.

"I'm _not_ going to be your wife," she spat at him, painfully aware of her flushed face as he smiled a charming, disarming sorts of smile. Something warm covered her hands and she looked down in surprise to find two rough, long-nailed ones clutching hers.

When she looked up into his eyes, he had this triumphant look on his face; immediately, she wanted to smack it off. Funny, because she'd never had a pension for violence to begin with, but, it seemed, after meeting someone as arrogant and hard-headed as Koga, that violence was the only way to get her point through now.

He was hardly the type to listen to reasoning; he seemed more reliant on his brute strength to win his battles, and since he was a demon, that was probably true. Very few demons relied on their brains.

"Such fire," he murmured, never letting go of her hands, no matter how hard she tugged and yanked; hell, she even contemplated pulling his tail for good measure but decided against it.

"Let go. Of. Me!" she hissed through tight teeth, grinding them fiercely and enunciating each syllable with emphasis, punctuating each word with a short punch to his shoulders.

As if noticing her hits for the first time, he turned and his cerulean eyes locked on hers, sending hot fire down her spine in a rush of adrenaline and attraction. Sure, he was an ass, but he was a _sexy_ ass.

She may be pissed at him, but she knew beauty when she saw it, and couldn't help the heat that flooded her cheeks fiercely.

"Spitfire," he said to her, the word rolling off his tongue as slick as water.

She stopped struggling. "Spitfire?" she repeated, frowning up at him.

"I'm going to call you that," he explained exasperatedly, like she was supposed to know what he was talking about the minute the words fell out of his mouth.

She opened her mouth, intending to argue, but he placed a finger on her lips to silence her.

"I know you like it," he whispered in a low tone, too soft for normal conversation, seductive even, "so I'll call you that."

"I don't know why you think the entire world revolves around you, but _I_ won't take any part of whatever weird scheme you've got going on, cosplay boy!" To emphasize her point, Kagome jabbed her pointer finger at him.

"Now, now," her mother said lightly, waving offhandedly as she stepped between them.

Kagome froze.

"How about some tea? I'm sure that'll calm everyone's nerves and—" Mama stopped mid-sentence, turned to Koga, and reached for his face.

Kagome felt a scream building up in her throat as her mother's hands bypassed his face to squeeze his pointy, elfish ears. "I thought wolf demons were supposed to have wolf ears," Mama muttered, a smile still on her face to make the words sweet and not quite so rude.

Koga's face flamed as he slapped her hands away, quite rudely mind you, and puffed out his chest. "I'm a _full_ demon," he spat venomously, eyes narrowed at Mama, "not a weak _half-demon_."

"Half-demon?" Kagome repeated, despite her irritation at his treatment of her mother.

"Half-demons are the offspring born to a demon and a human," Gramps explained, his face serious, "and often are looked down upon by full demons. Neither human nor demon, most are loners and don't associate with anyone."

She gritted her teeth and turned back to Koga, glaring at him. "So you think you're better than this, uh, half-demon just because you're a full demon?" she growled slowly, and or _once_ in her life, sounded truly menacing.

Sota, sensing her growing rage, scurried out of the room quickly, fearful for his life.

"You think just because you have a 'clean' bloodline that you mean more than someone who's half?" she snarled, her words growing louder with pitch and ferocity.

Koga's eyes flickered for a second, a bit of fear in them that was quickly replaced with irritation, and his smile fell off. "That's because they're weaker, Spitfire. They have less power, and in _my_ world, that means the difference between life and death. In your world, the wealthy, the motivated, those who excel succeed; those without those qualities don't. Only the strongest, fastest, smartest survive in this world, Spitfire. In both worlds, being weak means being killed," he told her quickly, anger in his voice as he bristled, flashing canines.

Kagome scowled. "Also, my name is Ka-go-me! _Kagome!_ Not Spitfire—" She lowered her voice in a very bad imitation of his deep voice. "—or anything else! Ka-go-me!" When she jabbed a finger into his chest, he grabbed her wrists, his fingers forming loose shackles around them. "Just who do you think you are?" she yelled.

"Koga, Prince of the Wolf Tribe."


	4. Limitless

The Mutt Has a Mistress

4

Limitless

 **:Kikyo:**

It was still dark outside when Kikyo pulled herself out of a restless sleep filled with noise and headed down the hallway for some tea. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, one hand tightening the sash of her silky kimono, she spotted a tall figure crouched in front of her couch.

"Who are you?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes at the figure's back.

The head snapped up, strands of silver hair billowing with the movement, and she saw the face. Bushy eyebrows, long silvery eyelashes, flashing golden eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the exotic, wild features of the half-demon. Long, white canines were bared at her, low growls rumbling out of the throat. She remembered last night and relaxed.

"Where the hell am I?" the half-demon snarled, his voice low and rich with silk-wrapped anger.

"My apartment," Kikyo told him, tightening the sash as she hoped she wasn't flashing him.

"How'd…" A pause, his anger faltering as he rose slowly from his crouch, towering above her. He was a sight to see, draped from head-to-toe in red, red, red. He must've taken his sweatshirt off and his t-shirt, which had once been white from the fading along the bottoms of the sleeves, was pink. "How'd I get here, woman?" he asked tightly.

She shot him an icy look as she headed towards the kitchen. "How do you think?" Keeping her back to him, she set about fixing herself a cup of coffee; filling the pitcher with water, the powder, and setting it on the stand.

"I didn't ask for your help." A quick glance behind her told her he was hovering in the doorway, half angry and half confused.

"You weren't exactly in the best condition to refuse it. Unless, of course, you wanted to bleed out and die in the alleyway like some scumbag, whose body will never be identified." As she spoke, she glanced up into the window above the sink and caught his reflection.

He was gorgeous, but in a dangerous, biting way. Every inch of his exposed skin was covered in scratches and bruises and his lip was bloody, but despite that fact, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to taste his mouth. _Demons are dangerous but half-demons are the worst. They're not really humans, but not demons either; stuck in the middle,_ she remembered her father telling her, and chastised herself for thinking such vile, tainted thoughts.

"Well, uh, thanks, I guess." He shuffled towards the door, running his hands through his hair.

"You were shot several times," she told him, admiring the gliding muscles of his back and the way his hair cascaded down his shoulders. "Three times. You shouldn't even be up." She frowned at him sternly.

He lifted up his shirt and her mouth went dry at the sight of the golden strip of skin he exposed. It was completely smooth, devoid of any type of blemishes like exit wounds from being shot. "I heal fast," he sneered, shoving his shirt back down as he stalked away, heading back towards the living room.

She debated for a moment before following him, watching him pull on his blood-stained sweatshirt and cram his feet into his sneakers. "Your prayer beads are on the table," she said when he snarled and cursed to himself, searching for them.

"I gotta go. Bye." The beads around his neck, he leapt deftly out the window, and there wasn't even the slightest creak of the fire escape's rusty metal as he slid down the handrails.

Against her better judgement, she walked over and leaned out the window, her eyes glued to his nimble figure darting in and out the shadows of the alley and into the crowded, bright streets of Kyoto. Once he hit the sidewalk, he hesitated and glanced back, his exotic eyes meeting hers; instead of shying away, Kikyo lifted a single hand and waved at him. Embarrassed, he turned away and ran, melting into the crowds.

She laughed as the sun beamed down on her face.

* * *

After meeting up with a new sports apparel shop for some potential modeling, the model returned to her apartment, the balls of her feet aching. She was sweaty from the baking summer heat, and pieces of hair clung to her neck, and irritated.

Spotting a tiny, skinny demon parked in front of her door, she drew a deep breath and remembered she was frigid and bitchy. "May I help you?" she asked coldly as she paused just before reaching. The little demon's head jerked up, revealing bright yellow eyes and a beak-looking mouth. He stumbled away, startled, swimming in his t-shirt and cargo shorts.

"Have you seen a silver-haired half-demon?" a sensual voice questioned as a demon stepped out from an alcove. He was beautiful, with white hair that tumbled down his spine in a braid and long-lashed eyes the color of molten ocher. However, he was dressed in all white, business attire minus the tie, and he screamed power, sex, and wealth.

She bristled, tensing her muscles in case he wanted to start a fight or something. "How is it any of your concern?" She danced around the question easily, meeting his stare with a cool, porcelain expression.

"Mind your mouth, human." The little demon's eyes narrowed as he began to rage at her. "You should be awed to be graced by the presence Master Sesshomaru, you lowly human!"

"Sesshomaru? As in Great Dog Demon's son?" _That means that boy that was here, the half-demon…was Inuyasha!_ She leaned against the wall, pressing her face against the cold plaster and paint, and took a few breaths to stay somewhat calm.

Sesshomaru crossed his arms, the muscles of his biceps stretching taught in the arms of his blazer, looking completely at home against the minimalistic apartment building's décor. "Yes," he breathed, his voice still low and seductive, "and I am looking for Inuyasha. He should be dressed in all red, wearing purple prayer beads."

A tiny bit more composed, Kikyo looked up at him, being a good couple of inches shorter than him. "Why?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I'm going to kill him, of course."


	5. Exposed

The Mutt Has a Mistress

5

Eposed

 **:Kagome:**

"A wolf prince?" Kagome repeated incredulously. "Princes are only found in fairytales." She crossed her arms as Mama gestured for Koga to sit while she made some tea.

"Kagome," Grandpa said, "it's time I tell you the truth about things."

Kagome took the seat farthest away from Koga, who sat two seats down from her place at the head of the table, and piled her plate with fried pickles and oden.

Sota crept back into the room to eavesdrop but, for once, she didn't care.

"I know you've grown up on my legends. Demons with no faces that scare humans, ghosts that haunt train stations…" He paused, taking a long sip from his tea cup. "They're real, Kagome. I know you've never believed but look at the young wolf prince and tell me he looks human."

Under her grandfather's intense stare, she glanced up in Koga's direction. In all her life, she'd never seen a boy with elf-like ears or wearing animal furs or with a _tail_ that shifted back and forth like a dog's. There had to be reasonable, logical explanation; not some mumbo-gumbo her grandad was always spewing at anyone who lent an unfortunate ear.

Since she was old enough to understand words, her grandfather had told of the shrine's history, of the ghosts and goblins and demons he'd purified as a young man, about the Jewel of Four Souls, about the great tree that stood outside the shrine like a guard, where a great priestess had lost her life defending her shrine. Instead of growing up on funny stories, her childhood was plagued with nightmares of scaly goblins licking their lips and scuttling feet of moving dolls.

It was when she turned eight that she realized her grandfather was nothing but an old man yearning for his glory days. But, sitting here, staring at the boy who'd ripped apart a box her grandfather had put him in, covered in seals, she could feel the doubt creeping in. What if he'd been right all those years?

Silently, she compared Koga to Hojo from Class B.

Koga was all muscle and dirty skin.

Hojo was skinny and baby-colored skin.

In place of nails, Koga had claws that looked ready to slice.

Hojo had no nails to speak of.

Koga's pupils seemed to dilate and shrink again and again, reflecting the light like a dog's.

Hojo's eyes never reflected light.

"So that you're trying to explain is that I'm an actual demon," Koga said, snapping Kagome from her thoughts.

Grandpa nodded sagely. "Indeed," he agreed.

Mama set down a kettle and took a seat beside Sota.

Kagome picked up three fried pickles and tore them into pieces instead of eating them. "So you _are_ a demon?" she guessed, meeting Koga's sky-blue eyes.

He smiled, flashing long canines. "Yes," he agreed, "I am. How many humans do you know that have tails or fangs?" Glancing down for a minute to pour himself a cup of tea, the prince smiled, his fangs catching on his lips. When he looked up at her, his eyes were ruby-colored, clear and shiny. "Demons, most of them, have two halves. Human and demon, in the same body. When the demon takes over, the eyes turn red normally, claws lengthen, teeth lengthen. Sometimes markings appear on the skin. In human form, the eyes are back to their original color." He blinked, long lashes casting paintbrush-frayed shadows across his full cheeks, and his eyes were the color of the cloudless sky again when he opened them again.

Grandpa stole some pickles from Kagome's plate. "Since we have so many different ways to defend ourselves against demons, they've become weak. It started a years ago, the market for demons, and it's grown. They're sold like dogs in a pet shop. I stumbled across an auction while in a market for some more salts and incense and peeked inside. I saw a strong, capable young man in chains and bought him on a whim. For you, Kagome."

"Why?" she asked without premise and folded her hands in her lap.

"I think you two can balance each other out. You can be very rude and rash and I think having someone just as hard-headed and impulsive as you are," Grandpa explained seriously and sincerely.

Kagome flushed all the way to her roots with anger and jumped to her feet. "I am _not_ rude _or_ rash!" she argued savagely.

"All the birthday gifts I've give you you gave to Buyo or threw away," he pointed out flatly.

"That's because you're a cheap old man." She frowned and threw herself back into the seat. "Giving me gifts from the shrine? Total cheapskate."

"It's still very rude, Kagome," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Sota chimed, "it's mean! It's the thought that counts, isn't it?"

Kagome calmly turned her head in his direction and directed a cold stare at him.

He blanched and practically dove behind Mama.

"So how'd you end up being sold?" the birthday girl asked Koga.

His light eyes darkened as he looked away, refusing to answer.

Buyo whined loudly from the floor and clawed at the girl's leg, begging for food. She reached down and scratched him behind his ears. His head turned and his pink nose wiggled as he sniffed at the demon sitting beside Grandpa.

Koga appraised the cat with a bored expression. "Animals smell our demon blood. It seems like living at a shrine has desensitized your cat's nose to demons," he explained, his midnight-blue eyes lighting again, as though someone had splashed milk into the evening sky that were his eyes.

Buyo backed up, crawled underneath the table, and somehow managed to heave his overweight body up onto the empty chair beside Koga.

The wolf demon eyeballed the cat and scratched the animal underneath his chin. The car purred like a chainsaw and leaned heavily against his hand.

"He normally doesn't like strangers," Sota offered from behind Mama, wide-eyed with awe.

The wolf prince lifted the cat into his arms, flipped the fat feline onto his back, and stroked up and down from his belly to his chin.

Kagome watched, fascinated and half-envious because Buyo kind of hated her ever since she tried to paint his nails and put a bow on him when they first got him, as the cat basically melted in the demon's arms.

"Huh," was all Mama said, smiling like always, her eyes shifting between Kagome and Koga.


	6. Spark

The Mutt Has a Mistress

6

Spark

 **:Kikyo:**

Kikyo could only stare at the demon she'd assumed was Sesshomaru in surprise, but really, it shouldn't have been such a surprise to hear him say he was going to kill his brother. Demons, _especially_ dog ones, were known for being vicious and bloodthirsty towards their siblings, going to any lengths to acquire what they wanted.

Revulsion for such a lack of morale especially coming from someone who was a lord, filled her and she wanted so badly to cower, but showing fear in front of a demon wasn't a good idea.

"While it is none of my concern what you do with this Inuyasha, I will not aide you in premeditated murder," she said to him flatly, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared him down with narrowed eyes.

The little toad demon started to protest, saying something about her being a lowly human and disrespect, but a sharp glare from Sesshomaru made him falter and cringe.

Sesshomaru turned back to her and, faster than she could blink, slammed her against the wall with his hand closed around her throat, lifting her off the ground. She hung there, suspended, as she sputtered and tried to kick her legs frantically. His hard eyes narrowed as he flexed his fingers, drawing pinpricks of blood. "I have no time for such mortal foolish defiance, wench," he warned her, his sour breath making her head swim.

She blinked passed the dark spots and tried to get a bit of leverage to ease the pain on her throat to no avail. "What—" she tried to say, but his fingers were too tight around her windpipe, effectively choking any words.

"Perhaps if you give me his location, I will spare you," the demon lord continued, relinquishing enough pressure on her throat to let her breathe.

"And if I don't?" she asked.

His hand squeezed and she couldn't breathe anymore. As the time passed, his hand constricting, her lungs started to burn and her vision grew spotty. Icy fear rolled through her entire being.

"For a mortal, you're either brave or incompetent. No demon would dare risk my wrath. What makes you so special?" He was considering her closely like he was unable to comprehend why she wouldn't help him find his brother, his head cocked in a manner not unlike a dog.

Her head was starting pound and she could feel each rapid pulse of her heart in the tips of her toes and fingers. The skin on her face felt frozen and blistery. Abruptly, his hand dropped away and she collapsed to the ground, knocking the back of her head on the wall. Her lungs burned as she sucked in as much air as she could, dragging herself closer to her front door, away from Sesshomaru.

He merely blinked down at her, stone-faced. "If you wish to remain intact and alive, I suggest you tell me where he is," he said simply.

Kikyo shook her head as the blood rushed back into the rest of her limbs and left her light-headed. "I may not know him but it's against my beliefs to aide in premeditated murder," she managed to rasp out, her throat raw and her voice croaky. Her throat felt crushed and every word she managed hurt; every breath made the inside of her throat feel sandpapery.

As she caught her breath, the familiar heat of rage and the ice of terror crashed like a great wave inside her. Sweat broke out across the back of her neck and she could feel it gathering on her back. If he could do that with just one hand, what could he do if he put his mind to it? Her stomach turned at the notion. He reminded her of a bad guy on TV, the kind that ripped off people's nails for information, multiplied by a thousand. The look in his eyes as he watched her, cold and calculating, made her scramble to her feet.

She was equal parts angry and equal parts terrified. So what if she knew his brother? Did that give him any right to _assault_ her? For once, she wished the cops could arrest a demon's ass but no, they had their own law enforcement. Of course, he was a demon lord, which meant normal laws didn't apply to him. She ground her teeth.

"I do not care about your beliefs," Sesshomaru replied as a thin green-yellow light materialized around his wrist, kind of like Wonder Woman's whip. A flick of his fingers made her jerk her head back and she watched the line run where her face had been, to slice her. She realized it _was_ a whip with a jolt and heard the hissing bubbling as it hit the wall, charring the paint.

"I cannot allow you to kill him," she stated flatly as she placed her hand on her doorknob, "and I will not aide you in your search for him. You can find him on your own, without a mortal wench's help."

"How dare you, pathetic mortal?! You do not have any idea who you're refusing!" the little toad demon snarled.

Sesshomaru's hand closed around her wrist tightly, making her cringe away.

"Let me go," she demanded, glaring at him despite how her knees were shaking and her throat was throbbing.

"Tell me where the half-breed is and I shall," he replied, irritation and anger rushing across his marble features.

"Sesshomaru!" a new voice bellowed.

Kikyo had barely turned when a blur of red ran passed her, hitting Sesshomaru head on.

Two heaps of silver-white tumbled to the floor, but then one detached from the other and the red-clad one remained on the floor. Sesshomaru stared down at Inuyasha, who was sprawled out on the floor, with rage-filled eyes.

"I heard ya' was lookin' for me," the half-demon remarked. "What're ya' botherin' this broad for?" He jumped to a crouch and Kikyo could hear the feral smile in his voice as a metal click reached her. In one swing, Inuyasha unsheathed a large sword that radiated demonic energy.

It felt like the world was spinning away for Kikyo, being sucked into a void, and then everything exploded in a shower of white electricity, crackling and fierce.


	7. Collision

The Mutt Has a Mistress

7

Collision

 **:Kagome:**

While Kagome hated the idea of controlling another sentient being with a single word, she was actually very surprised when her grandfather's old friend, a priestess with an eyepatch named Kaede, dropped by and pressed pinkish beads into her hands.

"Kagome, utter a subduing spell," she breathed in a low, hoarse voice. When the girl tried to protest, the old priestess shook her head. "It matters not which; any word to subdue him."

"Any word to..." Kagome trailed off as Koga came charging in, his nose in the air as he took in the scent of the newcomer, unfamiliar and suspicious.

"Who's this?" he demanded, baring his teeth at Kaede, who shot him a sharp glare with her visible eye.

"This is Kaede, my granddad's friend," Kagome explained, rolling her eyes as he drew closer, pulling in deeper breaths instead of quick, short panting sniffs. "She...she married my parents."

Koga straightened at the word _parents._ "Well," he said slowly, his sky-blue eyes narrowed at the old priestess distrustfully at her, "I suppose she's allowed near my woman."

" _Excuse me?"_ Kagome yelled, feeling her face heat up as she spun around to face him. Her hands clenched at her sides as she stalked to meet him. "I'm not your woman!"

"Like hell you aren't, Spitfire," he laughed in that booming voice of his, his eyes darkening as a tiny bit of edge sharpened his tone, "you're mine and I don't think I'll let you go. You're much too fun."

Her hand unfurled and shot across the side of his face with a loud smack; beyond pissed now, she couldn't help the words that rose to her lips. "Sit!" she yelled, red-faced as she smacked him on the nose.

He backed up, growling lowly as he shook his head frantically. "That hurt, damn it!" he yelped as he flopped to the floor, cradling his sore nose in both hands. Like his animal counterpart, he wiggled it, sniffing gingerly, delicately a few times as though the tiny slap could do permanent damage.

At least he was sitting now.

"Good," Kagome stated triumphantly, crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes at him, "you've been a bad boy!"

He was silent for a long time and when he answered, his voice was huskier and his eyes darker, his pupils pin-point tiny. "You wanna spank me, then?" he growled, swiping his tongue across his teeth as he grinned devilish up at her.

Heat blossomed in her cheeks as she registered his words. What was up with this guy? Her stomach flipped as Kaede frowned at the wolf demon.

"Is that any way to treat ye girl?" she demanded.

"It's just some harmless flirting," Kagome was quick to explain, stepping between the two before things spiraled out of control.

Koga's claws dragged slowly up her bare legs and she shot him a glare, to which he smiled and his tail started to wag.

"You've got some nice legs," he told her, wiggling his eyebrows at her as his opened his palms and let his hands drag up and down, feeling out the tendons of her calves.

"Knock it off! _Sit!_ " she hissed, pulling her legs away only to wince when his claws sliced long lines. Beads of blood welded up inside them.

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmured, crawling forward on all fours and he lowered his head.

She watched the shiny black-haired head move back and forth as something wet and warm touched the scratches, tracing the lines of them. It took her a long second to realize he was _licking_ her cuts, lavishing them with slow, languid laps, making sure to cover every inch of the red lines in his saliva. She wasn't sure if it was sensual or weird.

His sky-blue eyes peered up at her, half-lidded, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. They looked like the morning sky. His tongue continued to wash away the blood. After what felt like an eternity, or maybe a far too short amount of time, he pulled away and licked his claws, not unlike a dog, his tongue sneaking out to find every spot of blood caught underneath the nail.

His face turned splotchy-red as he lowered his hands and pulled himself up so fast, it made her dizzy looking at him.

Kagome blinked and tried to ignore the heat spreading across her neck and face, sure that she resembled a tomato, undoubtedly.

"You're too flustered easily," Koga teased as he tapped his claws against his bulging bicep, flashing incisors as long as her thumb when he spoke, "and I'd be _very_ honored to see how far that flush goes."

Her mouth opened, closed. She sucked in her cheek. Could feel herself turn even darker at his statement, so loud and obvious, embarrassing. "Sit!" she yelled again, not even realizing there was something coming off her hands, a glow that brighter than the sun's rays.

The room filled with a too-bright pink glow and then a snarl, the ground shaking where she stood so violently, she though the entire shrine would collapse around them. Glasses shattered. Her ears popped and he skin felt like it would burn off in big, gooey chunks. Someone she assumed was Koga yowled in pain and the bright light dissipated, leaving destruction in its wake.

The windows, anything glass it seemed, was shattered and the fine shards gleamed on the floor like dangerous snowflakes. Kaede was on her knees, wheezing heavily as she murmured to herself, clutching a sutra to her chest. Koga was crouched on all fours, snarling and spitting viciously like an animal, his once blue eyes now surrounded by an ocean of red veins.

"Kagome? What happened?" Mama asked as she came rushing in, pale-faced and wide-eyed. Sota stumbled in after her, tea-stained face the color and opacity of rice paper, clutching the back of her cardigan like a child.

Then came Grandpa, his eyes as big as saucers. "Kagome, was that—"

" _A priestess!"_ Koga snarled, rising from his crouch abruptly, and then he lunged, going for Kagome's jugular.


	8. Help

The Mutt Has a Mistress

8

Help

 **:Kikyo:**

The first thing she noticed as she slowly came out of the darkness was the _heat_. Suffocating, smothering heat that swathed her torso and she fought against whatever held her and she kicked her legs frantically and clawed until he restraints snapped away and she could _breathe_.

At first, she didn't know where she was; it was too bright and the air smelled like stale tea leaves. It was balmy and cold, making her shiver as she kicked away the last of the tangled sheets. Her toes curled against the bare hardwood floor as she hesitantly inched towards the door.

The room was familiar now; it was _hers_. Sucking in a quick breath through her nose, Kikyo lowered the rest of her feet to the floor, ignoring the shivers that ran up her back, and padded to the door.

A rush of cold air hit her face when she opened the door and listened. The silence was palpable, and she could hear was the sound of a tap dripping. As she closed her eyes, she thought of Inuyasha, her golden eyes watching her worriedly, propped up against the door frame, his entire figure filling the length of the doorway. Her stomach twisted and she breathed through her mouth.

Where was he now? Was he okay?

She glanced down at her hands, remembering the pink glow that had flashed from them, and the searing, blinding heat that rushed through her like a tidal wave. Had that been her? Had she hurt them?

She turned her hands over, looking at the familiar scattering of moles, the dotted scar from where she'd gotten bitten as a kid by a dog, the callouses from her gardening hobby—they were still _hers_ but they felt like a stranger's. She didn't remember her fingers being so bony or long; didn't remember the ragged nails and jagged cuticles; and she certainly didn't remember seeing the glow around them. Curiously, Kikyo flexed her fingers and the bony ones mirrored her.

They _were_ hers.

An idea cropped up in her brain. If she remembered correctly, her aunt Kaede knew more about the priestess side of their family; she was a practicing one.

Kikyo turned, bypassed the kitchen, and headed straight for phone. Her hands shook a little as she punched in the unfamiliar numbers, staring straight ahead at the window. The tone rang four times before a raspy voice, roughened with a lilt that was old-fashioned and hard to understand, answered.

"Hello?"

She swallowed hard, feeling the saliva fall down her throat with a little squirt. "Hi, Kaede. It's Kikyo."

Silence, and then, "Kikyo." Surprise, not disbelief or anger, colored her voice.

Kikyo drew in a deep breath through her nose. "Yes. I-I—" she tried, the words catching in her throat as she gripped the edge of the table. The raw surface that needed to be sanded rubbed her fingertips raw.

"A light, Kikyo? Ye got angry or upset and somethin' inside ye exploded?" Kaede crooned, her throaty growl washing over Kikyo like a wave.

Kikyo nodded before she realized she was still on the phone and quickly said, "Yes. I-I ran into the Great Dog Demon's sons and there was a fight and the younger one unsheathed his father's fang and—and—" Her hands flapped helplessly and she swallowed again.

A low, long breath that crackled in her ear. "Kikyo, child, I think it's time ye and I speak face-to-face. I might have someone with whom you can speak."

Kikyo nodded. "When?" she asked quietly, chewing on the hangnail she'd ripped off getting out of bed, as she looked at the dates on the calendar.

"Tonight, if ye're able to."

Tonight. "Alright. Should I bring anything?" She was already walking towards her bedroom, the phone cradled between he ear and shoulder.

"No. Just yerself." A pause, and then, quietly, "Do make sure ye aren't crossing paths with those two again, understand?"

"The dog demons?" Kikyo guessed.

"Yes. I'm not sure about the younger one; the older...Sesshomaru...he's dangerous."

Kikyo stepped into the doorway, rubbing her throat as she remembered the claws scratching the delicate skin of her throat, gasping for breath, his palm pressing against her windpipe. A look of complete callous disregard in his cold, yellow eyes.

"I know, Kaede. I know," she murmured softly, trying hard to keep the tremors out of her voice. She'd grab the Nozomi and head out as soon as she got ready.

She billowed out a sigh through her nose. "I'll be there in about two hours, Kaede. I hope...I hope you will be able to tell me what's going on."

A long sigh.

"I do too, child."

The line cut off and Kikyo threw the phone on her bed as she stepped into her room and surveyed the tornado that was her room. Clothes from earlier in the week were draped across her bed and her bedspread was wrinkled, hanging precariously off he corner of her bed.

Bypassing the mess, she walked into her bathroom, stripped down, and started the shower. While she waited for it to warm, she checked her neck and saw the faint, large hand print, the individual rounded rectangular shapes of his fingers. Her face was whiter than usual, with a gray tint.

She swallowed convulsively as she turned away from her zombie appearance and stepped into the bathtub, under the scalding spray of water, feeling it pelt her skin and loosen the knots in her back and neck.

 _I just hope she can help,_ she thought to herself as she wrung out the excess water from her hair and began to wash it. Sighing into the wet, hot steamy air, she tilted her face away from the hot spray and felt the suds drip down her shoulders and sides.

When she closed her eyes, she began to plan out what she needed to bring with her. Kaede had said to bring nothing but herself, but Kikyo couldn't _not_ pack, just in case it turned into something more than a couple hours.

She scrubbed at her body until her skin hurt and rinsed off quickly before she stepped out, wrapped a towel around her body and then another around her long hair.

Chewing her lip, the young woman padded out and set about packing at least a change or two of clothes.


	9. Wait

Sorry about the lack of content lately. I'm starting college next week and haven't felt very , dating games are life. Mystic Messenger, My Candy Love, HS Story, UmaPri anyone? And work has been killing me slowly (or maybe just my legs). I'll try to upload more often, but I doubt it'll happen. But anyone else in love with "Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812"? I actually bought the book because of the musical!

I'm also on Dokuga under the name "Daddy Genos".

* * *

The Mutt Has a Mistress

9

Wait

 **:Kagome:**

Kagome's scream shattered whatever trance Koga was in, and he twisted himself out of the way, hitting the coffee table. "A priestess," he snarled, long teeth flashing as he glowered at Grandpa.

"A priest...ess?" Kagome echoed uncomprehendingly, flatly.

Koga's tail puffed up, his blue red-encased eyes never leaving hers. "Yes, are you stu—" he began but stopped once he caught sight of the look on her face. "You...you—what the hell, old man? She didn't _know_?" The red drained away and his tail smoothed out.

Grandpa shook his head. "Most priestesses in this family are dormant, and I have no way of checking to see, so it was safe to assume she was."

Kaede hobbled in suddenly, closing her flip phone with a click. "Kikyo has experienced the same thing," she announced.

"Kikyo?" Mama echoed.

It clicked inside Kagome's brain. "Kikyo Takemaru...as in the _famous model?_ "

"Just what I need," Koga snarled, " _another_ fucking priestess."

Kagome frowned. "Language."

He snorted and crossed his arms. "I'm fucking leaving if she comes over," he grunted, his lip curling up over his teeth. "Priestesses and yokai don't mix, old man, you fucking _know_ that."

" _Language, Koga!"_ she yelled, frustrated with his cursing—she always hated profanity—and he wheeled on her, his ice-colored eyes locked with hers.

"What're you gonna do, _priestess?"_ he demanded tightly.

Kaede stepped forward, her lips turned downward, and she glared. "Subduing word," she whispered in her crackly voice, her sour breath tickling Kagome's neck.

"Sit!" Kagome yelled without thinking just as Kaede threw something purple at Koga, which fell easily around his neck. It glowed brightly and he found himself lying flat on the floor.

"What the hell?" He tried to pull himself upright.

"Sit!"

Another glow, followed closely by a loud bang, and he was on the ground again, lying flush. "What the _hell_?"

"Stop swearing!" she yelled, reaching for her mother's open arms and pressing herself tightly against her. Mama smoothed Kagome's hair back gently, lovingly, murmuring something under her breath.

"What is this—a _subjugation necklace?_ What— _ugh_!" Koga threw his hands up in disgust, his lips pulled away from his fangs as he glared with eyes the color of faded denim.

Kaede narrowed her world-wise eye. "Ye do not have the control. Ye are but a pup," she explained flatly, her voice low and clear in the silence of the family.

"I am _not_ a pup!" Koga argued, shooting to his feet to loom but a sharp, burning glare from Kagome made him hesitate. "Whatever. Who is this _Kikyo_ girl?"

Kaede glanced up sharply at him, and then her gaze swept across the family. Before she could say anything, Kagome broke away from her mother's embrace and answered in a gushing voice.

"Only one of _the_ most famous sports models. She grew up in a shrine, too, and she's been recognized for tons of charity work like orphanages, battered men and women's shelters," she informed him matter-of-factually, and then addressed Kaede. "When will she arrive?"

"In two hours."

"Two hours? I have to find something to wear! I have to do my hair! Oh, and the kitchen looks like a tornado blew through it." A dry look crossed Kagome's expressive features. "Or more like a wolf demon messed it up."

"That wasn't _my_ fault. I didn't ask to be put in a damn box," he sneered, baring his long fangs at her as his eyes began to shift colors, the blue darkening into the color of turbulent waters.

Kagome crossed her arms. "Who's fault is it you were sold in the first place?" she countered.

A loud, reverberating growl shook the window panes, and she stepped back as his angry gaze locked on her. "You speak of matters of which you have no _idea_ of," he hissed, his voice low and heavy with rage, and she didn't miss how his voice warbled a little bit.

"Explain to me then," she demanded.

Another growl, deeper, _angrier_ , and this one rattled her to the bones. Unease began to creep through her veins. Maybe she should shut up. "Fine." She spun and marched up the stairs. "Sit boy!"

The growling choked off with a yelp as something shattered, followed closely by a sharp thud.

She scampered up the stairs and closed her bedroom door. Her fuzzy sweatshirt and two seasons old skirt wouldn't do to meet Kikyo in. Her mind was running in circles, and she desperately wanted to slow down. She should probably apologize to Koga; he didn't deserve to be sat because he didn't tell her what she wanted to know—after all, it was none of her business.

Once she found a suitable outfit, she hung all the other clothes up, fixed her bed, and headed downstairs to search for Koga. The kitchen was spotless, and all the glass that had covered the living room floor was gone. The broken china had been cleaned up as well.

"Koga?" she called tentatively.

"He's helping your grandfather," Kaede said from her seat at the table.

"Oh." Unsure of what to do, Kagome took a seat next to the older priestess. "I feel awful for doing that to him."

Kaede's good eye closed. "I do not know the wolf's story, but many have awful ones before coming into the auctions. Most involve slayers and the like slaughtering their clans. But this one is wild and untamed, and he does not respond to words well. A subduing necklace...that is all I can give ye as a means to control him."

Kagome's heart thumped. " _Slaughter_? Slayers? What do you mean?"

"Yokai are real, child. Surely ye've heard the stories? Did ye think yokai run untamed? Slayers manage the ones that threaten the lives of those around them, human and yokai alike," the old woman explained.

The blue-eyed girl traced a circle on the tabletop. "And what about priestesses?" she asked.

Kaede smiled. "We'll cross that bridge when we meet Kikyo."


	10. Author's

I've decided to reboot this thing. It's horrible, cliche, and the characterization and chapters are all over the place. I might be able to squeeze out the reboot today, if I can.


End file.
